


The Giving Tree

by DesdemonaSighs



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, The Giving Tree - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-21 23:19:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesdemonaSighs/pseuds/DesdemonaSighs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once there was a tree...</p><p>And little Merlin loved the tree. </p><p> </p><p>As inspired by The Giving Tree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Giving Tree

**Author's Note:**

> A little thing I fancied to write a very long time ago when I stumbled across my old copy of The Giving Tree. Never thought I would finish it. It's an odd piece, but I had fun. Could be interpreted as a reincarnation fic.

__

and she loved a little boy very, very much- even more than she loved herself.

\- shel silverstein, the giving tree, 1964 

* * *

Arthur was a tree. He had been a tree since he could remember, although he recalled hazy memories of a life as a human prince, living in excess with all the happiness in the world, and of a jealous, wicked witch who changed him into the giant apple tree he was now. Arthur didn't mind. This life was easy, the seasons long and kind to him. Arthur was a tree, and that was that. 

Merlin was his best friend. Arthur was barely a sapling when Hunnith sat beneath him, cradling a child with oceans for eyes and raven feathers for hair. He thought that the child was beautiful, and was utterly pleased when Hunnith named him Merlin. It fit, and Arthur gave her a beautiful apple blossom as a gift. She smiled, and Arthur was happy. 

He watched the child, Merlin, grow. When he was big enough to walk, he would lumber on over to Arthur's branches, tugging on them and pulling leaves off. With anyone else, Arthur would have been annoyed, would have hated the stupid child from the center of his trunk, where his human heart still pumped, but Arthur loved Merlin, and Merlin loved Arthur, and for every leaf the tree lost, Merlin would replace with a kiss to his bark. If Arthur could blush, he would, but instead he flowered apples as red as blood and hoped Merlin got the picture. 

When Merlin was old enough to climb, he'd clamber up into the highest spot within Arthur's branches, looking out into the fields of his home. Sometimes they would play wizards, Merlin making wands out of loose twigs and shooting imaginary beams at Arthur, or they would just sit and be very quiet, the wind ruffling Arthur's leaves with a serenity he had never felt before, but either way, Merlin spent every free moment hidden among Arthur's limbs, hugged by his branches and kept safe by his leaves. It was something both of them enjoyed, and when Merlin had to leave for the night, he would plant a kiss on the center of Arthur's trunk, right where his heart was, and say "until next time!" in a voice so sweet, it would put Arthur's apples to shame. 

At the end of one particularly hot summer, Merlin sketched "M.E. + T" into Arthur's bark. Everyday, the child would trace a finger over the scratchy marks, and Arthur would shudder slightly in the wind. 

The boy loved the tree very much... and the tree was happy. 

* * *

But, time went on, and the boy grew. Arthur grew as well; he was taller, his leaves broader, his apples sweeter, but Merlin's face changed and his hair got shorter and he was very different in all the ways that Arthur was the same. 

Merlin, instead of climbing Arthur's branches or playing wizards, would sit in the sun and read, or bring girls and kiss them in the coolness of the shade. Sometimes, still, he would speak to Arthur, his voice deeper now than ever before. He would say "Oh, Tree, if only you were human," and then hug Arthur's trunk close to his warm body. Arthur had never wished to be human as much as he wished to whenever Merlin sighed against his bark. 

Arthur wished that time could still to those few moments, when it was just him and Merlin, safe together, Merlin's back pressed against the cool bark of Arthur's trunk. But time did not grant the wishes of the wistful few, so days came and went, the seasons bearing down, and Merlin grew. Where there was once no hair on his face, dark stubble painted his skin; where his limbs had been long and lithe, they became strong and demanding; where his eyes had glowed with childish delight, they shone with a sharp light of years gone by. And Arthur -- Arthur remained the same. 

The flowers grew and died around him. His leaves fell and grew back, changing from green to yellow to orange to red. His trunk thickened with the years, but never enough to hide the "M.E. + T" which was forever part of him, as Merlin would forever be part of him. The skies became dark with storm clouds, then bright with the sweltering sun. Merlin spent less and less time in the shade, and Arthur became lonely. 

"I wish to get married," muttered Merlin into the air one day when the sun was hot and Arthur's shade was cool. "I wish to marry a girl named Freya. But I do not know if I love her." 

And, oh, how Arthur wished he could say that he knew that he loved Merlin. But all he could do was sway in the breeze, his human heart breaking a little as Merlin held up a ring, sliding it onto one of Arthur's branches. "Tree," said Merlin, his smile kind, real, the only thing Arthur ever wanted to see, "my oldest friend. What shall I do? Shall I marry? Shall I give my heart to one for which my heart does not belong?" 

Arthur could not answer; could not say that his heart belonged to Merlin. So he watched as Merlin walked away, ring in hand, and felt the layers of his heart strip away. The thought of Merlin with another, it rattled the poor tree to his core, and his apples became sour, his leaves fell, and he wilted. And he waited. But Merlin did not return and Arthur was alone. 

One day, a fair lady came to Arthur, kneeling before his trunk. "Oh, my beautiful brother," the woman said, placing a hand on the grass where Arthur's deepest root twisted in the Earth, "does a tree love? Does it feel as humans do?" 

Arthur wondered who this lovely woman was, and his heart sped as he remembered a name. 

_Morgana._

"I did not wish to make you this way, Golden Prince," sighed she, her voice familiar in the same way Merlin's fingers tracing his bark was familiar. "But you have learned, have you not? You know now. You love a boy, yes? A good boy. A kind boy. Your heart breaks because you cannot be with him, and that is good." 

Arthur trembled as Morgana placed her pale hands on his trunk. He felt the world tilt, and his roots twist beneath him. "And he shall love you as well. And you will thank me, brother." 

The world changed around him. The other trees grew taller, the grass became softer beneath him, and the air tasted sweeter. A shower of his leaves fell around him as he shrank, his branches becoming sculpted arms, his roots becoming strong legs. His apples fell; in their wake grew long strands of blond, like the sun reflected off the lazy river. His heartbeat quickened, and he gasped for air, filling his human lungs with the delicious tones of summer. Around him, the earth sang to his ears, the sweetest of serenades for its Prince. 

Beneath him, the grass crunched melodically, and he found himself running towards the barn he had always watched over. The breeze whistled. 

Here, within the walls of the barn, he found Merlin, crouched over a hill of dirt. The most beautiful oceans of blue looked upon Arthur, surprise sparking within the depths that Arthur had once thought he knew, yet here he could clearly see that Merlin would never stop being a mystery. "Hello," said Merlin, standing. For the first time, he was taller than Arthur, and as beautiful as he had always been. 

"Hello," replied Arthur. His voice was smooth like the flight of a bird; like the kiss of his leaves against Merlin's cheek. 

"Can I help you?" asked Merlin, but he smiled, and Arthur smiled back; smiled like he had wished to smile all along, to show Merlin where his heart belonged. They were silent, and it felt right as it always did. Arthur reached forward and took Merlin's hand within his own, sighing at the way it felt. "Do I-" mumbled Merlin, "I know you, don't I?" 

"Yes," laughed Arthur. Their lips met, and it was both different and the same as all the kisses before. 

And the tree was happy.

**Author's Note:**

> And they lived happily ever after.


End file.
